Leader
by BardDown
Summary: Roach now has a team of his own.
1. Just like me?

I'm more of a follower than a leader really, I was never really that confident.

But being captain felt damn good, no matter my disposition.

"I can put my feet on the desk," I announced to the pencil I was playing with as I lazily threw my feet up "Cause I'm the captain."

Suddenly my computer made an unusual noise and something popped up obnoxiously. I tilted my head curiously and clicked on it, not knowing what it was. As it loaded I went back to the pencil, twirling it clumsily between my fingers.

"SANFERSON GET YOUR BLOODY FEET DOWN!"

"BAAAAHHHH FUCK!"

I jumped clear from my seat and fell backwards, dumping like a sack of rocks onto the wooden floor

I probably would have laughed my ass off if it didn't hurt so badly. I groaned something incoherently and grabbed the edge of my desk, hauling myself up. I turned to my computer dumbly, following the sound of uncontrolled laughter.

It was Ghost.

He was on video chat, worn scull mask grinning maniacally at me.

I need to stop randomly clicking pop ups, it's going to be the death of me I swear. I practically fell back into my chair, heart still thumping.

"Damn, thought I got rid of you." I murmured, trying to conceal a grin. Ghost let out another short laugh as he tugged off his mask, which was a sign of friendship in his psychopathic world. Thick brown hair fell in front of his eyes and he pushed it back.

"You're not so lucky, I'm afraid."

"Good to see you still look like a scarred up hippie."

"Bite me."

I let the grin lose and leaned back once again, waiting for some type of compliment about my recent success.

"So, you still sleep with a nightlight?"

Damn, not a "Good job" or even an "I miss you"

"No, no I do not." I answered proudly, crossing my arms over my chest.

I'm such a fucking liar.

Ghost raised an eyebrow, looking me over.

"You're still a skimpy little loud mouth, aren't ya?"

"Damn strait."

Ghost was about to say something, but we both stopped when a knock came at my office door. I looked around the computer.

"Come in!"

Sgnt. Harold Lily poked his head apprehensively in, his eyes just barely visible under the bill of the cap he was wearing.

"Ah, am I bothering you sir? I have the reports finished."

My eyebrows raised in surprise. I had only asked for those reports an hour ago. This kid is good, really good. Lily was probably my favorite out of the team, mostly because he was like a blonde copy of me. Small and awkward, he was practically a Roach junior. I reached out and took the folder from him, offering a smile.

"Not bad, thanks kid."

Calling someone else kid felt amazing; I'm not going to lie. He nodded and gave a rushed "Thank you sir," Before rushing off, the door gently falling shut behind him.

"Bloody hell, he's just like you." Ghost announced in surprise, smiling. I turned to him and nodded.

"A little, but not_ just_ like m-"

I was interrupted by a crash and a frustrated "Fuck!" as Lily tripped on the steps leading to my office and fell at least halfway down. I peered past my computer once again, looking to the door.

"You alright?" I called.

"Yes sir!"

Ghost chuckled and sighed, shaking his head.

"Like I said, just like you."

**Authors note: I guess this is assuming that Ghost and Roach survived Modern Warfare 2. I don't really know, I've had this idea in my head for like two months and I just had to write it. I could probably make a full story out of this with a few more chapters if anyone likes it enough.**


	2. Now, you're man

"Be careful," I warned calmly "You hold that wrong and it'll snap your collar bone."

Lily squirmed uneasily, the sniper rifle barrel bobbing up and down as he tried to get his hands in the right places. The kid had a basic understanding of weapons and some hand to hand combat, but he was still lacking in some areas.

The biggest area being how to act in social situations, sadly.

It was like he was afraid of me, or everyone for that matter. The way he never met my eyes while talking kind of freaked me out sometimes, like he was hiding something. But, he always followed my orders and kept quiet so I never really bother to bring it up. He'll come around, hopefully.

I moved beside him and placed my hands over his, finally shifting them to ware they were supposed to be. Instantly on contact the small blonde tensed up, his shoulders locked. I let out a relaxed laugh as I helped him aim for the target in front of us.

"Relax Lily, seriously. You're making me nervous."

"Yes sir. Sorry sir."

His talked quickly but softly, not looking away from the target. The nervous tone of his voice made me cringe a little.

"It wasn't an order, I'm just…"

I suddenly didn't know what to say. Lily glanced at me for a second, and then looked back.

Great, now I feel like an ass.

"Ah, just forget it."

"Yes sir."

If he says "yes sir" again, I'm going to use him as a fucking soccer ball. The grip of my hands over his loosed slightly, but remained. I knew for a fact he had never fired a weapon this powerful before, and I didn't want him to end up like me the first time I had to do this.

My first time, unfortulanlly, Ghost was giving me the exact some lesson. Only, instead of helping me get used to it like I was with Lily, he just let me go it alone. Long story short, the gun flipped up from my hands and knocked me down, cutting my face. The basturd didn't even try to catch me. I still haven't let it go.

"Okay, the recoil on this is a bitch, so get ready."

"Yes sir."

I felt my eye twitch slightly. MacTavish always preferred being called sir, but I just found it annoying as hell. I need to have a talk with this kid later about being so fucking formal.

"Okay, ready?"

"Yes sir."

"3…..2….1…"

Nothing.

"Oh for fucks sakes Lily, take the safety off." I laughed.

"Sorry sir."

He tensed again as he clumsily reached for the safety, avoiding looking at me. It was supposed to be funny dammit.

We practiced for a few minutes, and then I decided he was ready. I let go and took a step behind him.

"Alright, try it yourself."

"Yes sir."

I watched him carefully as he aimed; biting back a laugh at how big the gun looked in his arms.

_Bang!_

The rifle went off, shot up, and came down right on his nose. He collapsed, his hands still clutching the gun for dear life. I could have caught him, I really could. Not only could I, but I wanted to, I really did.

But, instead I stepped swiftly to the side, letting him crash down onto the pavement. His hat flew off and sailed a few feet away.

At least the hat had the right idea.

Lily groaned and sat up on his elbows, the sniper rifle sliding off his chest. Just below his right eye a large gash began to bleed, sending little red streams down his face and onto his collar. He stared up at me, green eyes wide and surprised.

I burst out laughing.

He just stared up at me, jaw dropped and face bloody as I leaned over and offered him my hand.

"Now, you're man my friend."


	3. Every great superhero

Every great superhero has a side kick. Batman has Robin, Sherlock Holmes has Watson, and even MacTavish had Ghost always by his side.

I, sadly, have Joker.

"Fucker," I groaned, keeping one hand on the wall for support as I went. I messed my leg up during our last mission, and was now trying my hardest to limp my way to the infirmary without falling over and tasting the floor.

Of course, it's all the way on the other side of the base, god forbid anything be easy in this hellhole.

"Everything alright sir?"

I let out a long sigh in annoyance, recognizing Jokers light accent. When I heard he was British I had hoped he would be at least a little like Ghost. Fast, efficient, good with paper work, even just being _quite_ would be great.

But no, he's the exact opposite. Lieutenant Dexter Maxwell is, and will forever be, a pain in my ass.

He began walking beside me, keeping with my limping pace as we made our way down the endless seeming hallway. He raised an eyebrow when I didn't answer him. I just kept my eyes forward, a pissed off look on my face.

"Need some help sir?" He asked innocently, grinning.

That fucking grin. It annoys the shit out of me. I don't know why. Maybe it's the fact he's always so damn sarcastic and happy-go-lucky. Maybe it's the perfect teeth. I really don't know.

"No, I'm fine." I mumbled, turning to him. He tilted his head in question and continued to keep pace with me.

"You sure?"

"Uh-huh."

He was silent for a few seconds, watching me with concern I knew for a fact was fake. I let out another sigh and smiled tiredly, trying my best not to be an asshole in hopes of being the bigger man.

"Really, I'm f-"

The hallway ended at a bend, meaning I ran out of wall to lean on. Not noticing, I could only yelp like a surprised dog and fall. Joker grabbed me by the arm and hauled me back off the floor, sending white hot pain up my leg. I groaned and leaned all my weight on him as we started again, now even slower.

"Ahhh, _this is so your fault!"_

Joker looked at me, trying to hold back a smile.

"Well, it's not my fault you fell through the roof mate."

"You….. YOU TOLD ME IT WAS STABLE!"

"You asked my opinion, so I gave it, sir."

The way he was keeping himself so calm made my blood boil. I stared into his dark brown eyes, gritting my teeth.

Then, I got an idea.

I studied his frame. He was my height, with maybe with a little more muscle.

"Ah, sir?" Joker asked, a little more nervous than concerned. I laughed.

"You know what would be awesome?"

"…What?"

"If you gave me a piggy-back ride."

The Englishman stopped cold and stared at me, surprised.

"….No…Just no…"

"Do I have to make it an order?"

Joker groaned miserably and rolled his eyes. He stopped supporting me and turned around, letting me jump onto his back. I laughed and ruffled his chocolate brown hair as he carried me.

"Good boy Joker."

"Permission to speak freely sir?"

"Granted."

"I fucking hate you."

"Love you too Joker."

I love it when I win.


	4. Ballad of a Clam

I yawned loudly and poked at my food with my fork, bored out of my mind. I lifted my eyes and looked across the table at Joker, hoping for some entertainment. Much to my dismay he was still a little pissed about the whole piggy-back thing last week, so he only peered up briefly before dropping his head back down.

I shrugged lazily and turned my head, zeroing in on the conversation Lily and the other sergeants were having at the table behind us. Lily was staring numbly at his drinking glass, seemingly spacing out as the other three chatted and punched at each other in that childish way I was all too familiar with.

Royce, Worm, and Meat used to constantly pick on me and pull pranks on others around the base. I was hoping to god when I received my own team I wouldn't have to deal with another little trio like this, but of course I wasn't that lucky.

Barski, Frog, and Parker. The fucking dream team.

Barski was a spitting image of Meat, constantly running his mouth and making dirty jokes. Frog, though he occasionally pulled his own stunts like Worm, usually followed Barski. Why, I'm not quite sure. It was either because he's not as big of an ass as he leads on, or he's just a witless numb-nut. Either way. Finally, there's Parker, who's probably my favorite. He just sits to the side and once in a while gives an intelligent comment or chuckled, just like Royce probably would.

"Hey Lily, pass the salt would ya?" Barski asked, his tone as loud and rude as ever. I noticed Lily visible tense before looking up, half smiling.

"I don't exactly like being called Lily. How about Harry?"

I let out an amused sigh. He was always so polite, and it got him nowhere. Frog laughed and leaned back in his chair.

"Naw man, you need a nickname."

Lily met his eyes, asking "What should it be then?" In his innocent little tone. It's funny because he's really smarter and probably secretly meaner than all of them combined. In all seriousness, I'm just waiting for him to snap and go crazy. Parker shrugged.

"Dunno, where you from? We can start there I guess."

"….. Rhode Island….."

Parker raised an eyebrow. He turned to Frog.

"Rhode Island is known for their seafood. How about shrimp?"

Barski laughed, almost spitting up his drink.

"That would fit him, but no. Got anything else?"

"Ah….. Fish?" Parker asked hopefully.

"Nah."

"Crab?"

"Nope."

"Clam?"

"No….. Wait…. That actually sounds good."

Barski looked around, receiving nods from everyone but Lily. The small blonde just stared blankly. I could tell he really didn't want the name, but he knew he didn't have a choice. Barski stood and placed his hands on Lily's shoulders.

"How about we consult the captain?"

"No! Wait, I mean, that's not necessa-"

He grabbed Lily's arm and hauled him up, followed by the others. I turned my head back to my food and waited, biting back a laugh. Joker looked up in question as the group approached, everyone grinning but our little hero.

"The bloody hell you all up to now?"

Barski let go of Lily and stood by him.

"We finally found Lily a nickname!" Frog announced proudly. I tilted my head and played dumb.

"Oh really?"

Barski nodded and slapped Lily on the back, almost knocking him over.

"It's Clam!"

Joker just stared, and then burst out laughing, touching his head down to the table. I laughed softly myself and looked to Lily, who was red faced.

"You okay with that name?"

He sighed and nodded, avoiding mine or anybody else's eyes.

"Yeah, it's manlier that Lily I suppose."

"It's settled then!" Parker proclaimed, giving Clam another slap on the back before heading back to the table. Once everyone followed I held Clam back, smiling warmly.

"Don't worry kid, I hated my name too."

He smiled awkwardly and nodded, turning to leave. Once he was gone I turned to Joker, who was gasping for air between bursts of laughter.

"Dear god man, get a hold of yourself."

**Authors note: You guys like Lily's new name? I figured I had to give him a silly name like Roach.**


	5. It was just funny

"Pick a station, or lose I finger." I growled, not taking my eyes off the road. Joker shrugged causally and leaned back in the passenger seat, finally leaving the radio alone. He tapped his fingers to the beat on his thigh, peering lazily out the window. The song playing seemed familiar to me, but I couldn't remember the name.

All I know is its going to be stuck in my head for the rest of the week.

I leaned back myself, removing one hand from the steering wheel and resting it on the edge of the open window. I peered briefly up into the mirror, catching a small snippet of the antics going on in the back seat.

Barski and Frog were reaching and punching over Clam, who was nestled uncomfortably in the middle. He had his head back with his eyes closed, his face visibly pale. I raised an eyebrow and turned back to the empty road, playing with and then discarding the thought of just crashing this damn idiot train.

"You gunna make it Clam?"

The small sergeant instantly snapped to attention at the sound of my voice. He sat up, just barley avoiding a punch in the head that Barski was aiming at Frog. He smiled weakly, his eyes half open.

"Yes sir."

Joker looked over his shoulder, still tapping his fingers to the beat.

"Car sick?"

Clam swallowed and let out a slow breath. I think hearing "car sick" just made him sicker.

"No sir." He managed, not bothering to give Joker the same fake smile he had given me. Just as the words fell flatly from his mouth Barski reached over him, backhanding Frog on the chest to get his attention.

"Hey dude! Check this out!"

Barski let lose one of the loudest fucking farts I've ever heard in my life. I'm sorry, but it was just so bad I don't even have some witty little comparison for it.

It was just bad, bad I tell you.

Of course Frog burst out laughing, dipping his head back as he gasped for air. Barski followed not even a second later, probably more amused by his friend's reaction than the horrific act itself. I myself even had to bite at my tongue, fighting back grade school giggles as I looked to Joker, who was facing the window and covering his mouth to hide it as well.

I looked back up into the mirror, checking on Clam. What very little color the young man's face still held was now gone. He gagged and clamped a hand over his mouth as he gripped the shoulder to my seat.

"Sir… could you….please pull over?"

His desperate but still somehow calm tone made me feel bad. I pulled over.

Clam reached over Barski, threw the door open, and lunged over the larger man. With surprising skill he leaped out, landed on his feet, and took off into the woods only a few feet from the car. He collapsed by a nearby bush, the branches just barley censoring the slurry of half-digested food as it spilled like a fountain from his mouth.

Barski and Frog just stared in shock for a few seconds, then turned to each other and laughed harshly. I rolled my eyes and sighed, waiting for Clam to finish vomiting up his insides all over Mother Nature. A minute or two later he finally stumbled back and leaned on the still open door for support, his cheeks red.

"Come on Clammy boy." Frog beckoned, grinning. Clam looked up to me, his face a mix of "please don't make me" and "I'd rather eat a turd"

I smiled, an idea coming to me. I looked to Joker, who nodded and grinned. I nodded back and turned back to the road, trying my best to make my face as serious as possible while still marveling over that fart earlier.

"Clam, you're up front. Joker, get in back."

"Oh, yes sir!" The Englishman agreed in excitement, jumping out. He kicked Barski in the hip, shoving him over into the middle as Clam climbed weakly into the passenger seat. I sat and waited.

And waited.

Then it happened.

Joker blew a fart that was twice as big as Barski's was. Both sergeants groaned in distaste, shifting away desperately.

I clenched my jaw, still fighting back any serious laughter. Clam looked at me and raised an eyebrow in annoyance.

"Come on sir, you can't possibly find that funny."

I shook my head solemnly, still staring straight ahead.

"No Clam, your right. It's immature and totally not fu-"

I lost it. Laughter burst from my mouth involuntarily. I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against the steering wheel, shaking my head as I gasped for air and continued for about another ten minutes strait.

It was just funny, funny I tell you.


	6. Panties and Vans

"Oi Clam! Get your arse over here!"

Clam jumped visibly, almost crushing the foam cup he was holding half way up to his lips. He turned in surprise to Joker, who motioned him over eagerly. I noticed him sigh heavily before standing and making his way over to our table. He stood up strait, his hands behind his back.

"Yes sir?"

Joker snorted in amusement and raised an eyebrow. I just kept my eyes on my food, pretending to not really pay attention as they talked. I really didn't want to get into this for some reason, I just had a feeling I would get screwed over somehow.

"Any chance you could cut the formal bull for a minute mate?"

Clams nodded obediently, but I swear I saw his eye twitch ever so slightly.

"Ah, sure."

Joker leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, his warm brown eyes playful.

"Wanna go out for a drink tonight?"

Clams eyes widened. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. He looked away for a second, probably trying to find a nice way to put "Fuck you"

"That sounds…. Fun… but I don't really drink. Why not take the captain?"

Joker laughed and clapped me on the back, almost making me choke on my food.

"I don't think he would want to after last time. He woke up the next morning wearing a-"

In an instant I bolted upwards and snapped a hand over the lieutenant's mouth, cutting him off. It was bad enough when it happened, I don't want to hear it again.

I still don't know whose panties those were.

Crap, now I'm into this.

Clam gave me a curious look and tilted his head. I shrugged and smiled awkwardly as I removed my hand, hoping Joker would get my point.

"I don't think he wants to hear that story Joker."

I relaxed and met Clams clear blue eyes. I did a little victory dance in my head when he didn't look away awkwardly like he used to do. It felt good to finally earn his trust after six months.

"You should just go. It would be good for you guys to bond….. Or something less gay sounding."

The sergeant smiled. Joker nodded; looking a little shocked I was actually taking his side for once.

"Aye! Come on mate, you'll have fun! I'll even promise you won't end up like the captain, waking up in the-"

I cleared my throat obnoxiously loudly, once again cutting him off. Not wanting to re-live that morning, I shot him a warning look.

I still don't know whose van that was.

Clam placed a hand over his mouth, masking a smile. When I gave him a look as well he put his hands up in surrender, looking the picture of innocents. Joker giggled and leaned back, balancing his chair on the two back legs.

I fought back the urge to shove his crazy ass over.

"So, what do you say? It'll be my treat….."

Clams eyes shifted as he thought, probably weighing the options. There's about a fifty percent chance he'll get home in one piece and a fifty percent chance he'll wake up naked in a bush, wearing a hat he doesn't remember putting on the night before. Either way.

Finally he nodded, smiling.

"Alright, sounds good."

I really should have given the kid a proper warning, but hey, no one gave me one.


	7. keep on dancing

I sighed and slouched deeper into the couch, the remote laying lazily in my left hand. I gave up on trying to find something interesting to watch about three hours ago, so now I was just listening to the Spanish channel while staring blankly up at the ceiling.

I lifted my head up halfway, hearing someone stumbled clumsily into the room. Joker came into view, carrying Clam over his shoulder. The younger man appeared to either be out cold or dead, either way wouldn't surprise me. I sat up the rest of the way as Joker dumped Clam like a sack of rocks onto the couch by my chair. Upon hitting the cushions he curled up into a ball, muttering to himself quietly in his sleep.

Well, at least he isn't dead. Now I don't have to fill out all that paperwork.

"How many drinks did he have?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Joker looked over to me and grinned, his eyes glossy. You could tell from a mile away he was totally shit-faced.

"Seven or eight, i don't really know for sure. I decided it was a good idea to bring him home once he fell off the bar stool and passed out."

The lieutenant reached into Clams jean pocket and fished out a bundle of papers and napkins, all containing scribbles of all different sizes.

"He actually got a shite load of numbers." He murmured as he squinted, trying to read some of the cursive type signatures. I was about to suggest those were private, but then figured Clam wouldn't even remember any of those people in the morning anyways. I stood and walked over, studying the drunken sergeant as he moaned and rolled over onto his stomach, face down.

"Ah, maybe we should put him on his back." I suggested, concerned. Joker, on the other hand, just continued to thumb through the papers curiously. I turned to him and tried again.

"You know, so he can brea-"

"Bloody hell! Half of these are men!" The Englishman laughed, eyes widening.

"Seriously, he could suffoca… really?"

I looked over his shoulder, biting back a laugh as I read the one Joker was holding up.

_Dear Harry, keep on dancing._

_Big Pete_

Though I managed to keep my composure, Joker dropped the paper and burst out laughing, leaning on the arm of the couch drunkenly as he wiped a tear from his eye.

"Bloody hell, he makes me so proud."

We both turned to Calm as he rolled over and sighed, his hair sticking up in messy patches around his head as his face twitched. I smiled and tapped him on the shoulder.

"You alright Clammy boy?"

"There is no school…. It's Sunday….."

I was about to press further, but looked up when I heard the door open.

Joker was leaving.

"Wait! What about Clam?"

He shrugged indifferently and yawned.

"You're the captain, you take care of him."

With that he left. I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting off a headache as I thought. I couldn't just leave him here, Barski and Frog would probably write on him or something stupid. Finally I broke down and walked over to the couch.

"You're lucky I'm a caring person." I growled as I scooped his small frame into my arms and began carrying him to his room.


	8. Enjoy the little things

"N-no! No way!"

"Aw, come on. Stop being such a bloody pussy."

"No!"

Clam crossed his arms over his thin chest, as if to emphasize his point. The roar of working mechanics sounded around us from other carnival rides as Joker groaned and rolled his eyes.

"It's really not that bad mate. You need to get over this heights thing." He laughed and motioned towards the roller-coaster a few feet from us "It's not as bad is it looks."

Just as he finished his sentence a cart went whirling by, the occupants screaming bloody murder as they went around a loop. Clam's blue eyes widened in utter horror as he stared up at the business tower sized machine. He slowly turned back to Joker, who offered a shit eating grin and gave two thumbs up.

"Captain!" The sergeant called childishly, his voice desperate.

"Huh?...Yeah." I muttered, completely not paying attention. I was too busy admiring the behind of a particularly good looking mother as she bent over to pick up one of her children's dropped toys. I nodded approvingly; suddenly glad Joker dragged me out of bed at eight in the morning on my day off to visit the carnival.

Always enjoy the simple things.

"Ah, sir?" Clam tried again, eyes now the size of dinner plates. Joker sighed happily and put a hand on the sergeant's shoulder.

"Well, looks like the captain ain't getting you out of this one, eh?"

Clam spun around and shook his head, holding his hands out in a feeble attempt of defense.

"No! Joker, I swear to god, I can't! I'm putting my foot down-"

Joker reached over and wrapped one muscular arm around Clam's waist, lifting him slightly off the ground. Clam fought and squirmed like a small child, screaming like a banshee as the lieutenant tugged him towards the rides line.

By the time I even realized they were even gone it was too late, sadly.

**OoOoOoO**

I leaned against the side of a hotdog stand, waiting for Joker and Clam to exit from the ride. Joker came strolling out first, his hands in his pockets and whistling casually.

"Have fun?" I asked in suspicion, raising an eyebrow. The Englishman nodded.

"Aye…. Well… at least I did."

"Wares Clam?"

"Coming."

A few seconds later Clam came stumbling towards us, his arms wrapped protectively over his midsection. He made it to us and stood shakily, his face gone pale. Concerned, I took a step towards him.

"Harry? You alright? You look kind of-"

As if I had uttered the magic words Clam suddenly gagged. His clamped a hand over his mouth and bolted off to the nearest trash can. He practically dove into it, almost half of his body leaning inside as he vomited. I jogged over to him as Joker simply walked, still whistling. I placed a hand carefully on the center of his back.

"Clam? Easy buddy."

This may sound horrible, but it was hard for me to keep the slight amusement out of my voice. No matter which way you spin it, this was kinda funny.

Sue me.

Joker met up with us as Clam pulled himself out of the rusted barrel, gasping for air. He clapped Clam on the back and laughed.

"Thanks for being a good sport mate."

Clam just gave him a cold stare for a few seconds, his hands tightening into fists. Then, in an explosion of movements he sunk a punch into Jokers gut. The older man gasped and collapsed to the ground in a heap. My eyebrows shot up in surprise as Joker rolled over and curled up in a ball. Joker was a big guy, so from my point of view it looked like David punching out Goliath.

"What….The…..Fuck?" He panted, rolling onto his back. I turned to Clam, who had a look on his face I had never seen before.

He was actually _mad._

I half expected a black hole to open up or some shit.

"I don't like heights." He announced through gritted teeth. I opened my mouth to say something in hopes of calming him down, but he stormed off before I could.

Joker looked up to me, his face a mix of surprise and question. I simply shrugged.

"Good job asshole, you pissed off the unpissoffable."


	9. Revenge through politeness

"Clam still won't even look at me." Joker murmured softly with a sigh. He was sitting restlessly beside me on the couch, shuffling a deck of cards clumsily in his hands. I yawned and slouched down in my seat, shrugging.

"Since when do you care who you piss off?"

Joker looked up from his cards, eyebrow raised. He gave a false look of surprise and scoffed obnoxiously.

"What? I always care!"

I suddenly felt annoyance flicker in me. I looked over from the gentle flashing of the television screen and gave the younger man a cold stare. He tilted his head in question, and then avoided my eyes.

"I don't piss people off that much, do I?"

I sighed again and sat up, counting on my fingers as I talked.

"You put a spider in Frog's pillow last week, he's still mad. You broke _my_ finger last month giving me one of your "super" high fives, that wasn't fun. Barski still can't look at chocolate after what you-"

Joker groaned loudly. He lifted the stack of cards to me, smiling.

"Pick a card, sir?"

"I refuse."

"Please?"

I studied the cards suspiciously, then carefully reached in and pulled one out from the stack. Joker smiled even wider and told me to memorize it before taking it back. He shuffled the deck, performing the old school magic trick MacTavish had always done when I was a sergeant.

"Is….. This your card?"

I squinted, checking the thin slip of plastic.

"….No, not at all."

At least MacTavish did it right.

The lieutenant stared down at the deck, surprised. He cursed under his breath and mumbled something I couldn't really understand due to his thick accent.

We both looked up when we heard the door to the recreation room open. Clam walked in, a book under his arm. His kept his head down and continued to a nearby table, either not noticing us or ignoring us. He settled down and focused silently on the pages.

I nudged Joker with my elbow, getting his attention. I nodded towards the table before focusing back on the television, not giving any other hints. He nodded himself and stood, still fumbling with the cards as he sat awkwardly down across from Clam.

"Ah, Clam?"

The small blonde didn't look up. He just kept reading, a dull look on his face. I watched them from the corner of my eye, eager to see what will happen.

"Mate? You hear me?"

Clam looked up sharply, still gripping the sides of the book.

"Loud and clear sir. Can I do something for you?"

Joker tried his hardest not to roll his eyes. He kept his tone soft.

"Can you cut the formal bull?"

"Of course, _sir._"

"Clam….."

"Sir?"

I noticed Joker lock his jaw in frustration as he ran his fingers through his hair. The ever so slightest smile curled at the ends of Clam's lips as the older man struggled for the right words. This is probably the first time I've ever seen someone get revenge through politeness.

He makes me so proud.

"Look," Joker began, setting the cards down "I'm sorry. Dragging you onto that ride was out of line. Can you forgive me?"

Clam leaned back in his seat, giving Joker the same cold look I had used earlier. He raised an eyebrow and remained silent, as if waiting for more. Not sure what to do, Joker picked the cards back up and gave them a quick shuffle.

"Pick a card?"

"You're shitting me, right?"

"…Sadly….. No."

Clam huffed and picked a card, giving in. Joker went through the trick, the whole time keeping his usual grin on. Finally he finished and drew a card.

"Is this your card?"

"No."

Joker's eyes widened. He didn't even check or try again; he simply packed the cards up in their box before tossing them over his shoulder. They landed across the room.

Clam couldn't help but laugh at this. He leaned forward, smiling.

"It's okay Joker, I'm not mad. I just wanted to see how long it would take before you would snap and apologize."

"Two weeks, that's a new record!" I called, grinning deviously. Joker's face went blank, and then turned to anger.

"Fuck you guys." He pouted, leaving the room. Once the door clicked shut behind him Clam turned to me, eyes shining.

"I do good sir?"

"Yup, you did kid."


	10. Planter planter on the hook

"This… is _really_ bouncy." I murmured, a juvenile smile spreading across my face. I pressed down on the corner of my bed once again, noting how quickly it sprang back up. I stood up strait and tilted my head, studying the average sized bed eagerly.

I have to do this.

At this point it's a white hot need.

I jumped up onto the bed, not bothering to worry about the thick mud that stuck like gum to the bottom of my boots. I shifted my weight gently up and down, testing the waters. After estimating about how high I could go without smashing my head into the ceiling I bent my knees, ready to start bouncing.

I stopped cold when I head two sharp knocks come from the other side of my bedroom door.

"Come in!" I called, the words slightly stressed as I clumsily sprang off the bed. My feet made contact with the ground just as Joker came in and kicked the door shut behind him.

The first thing I noticed was what was in his hands.

He grinned, presenting the item as if it were pure gold.

"A potted plant! Just for you sir!"

It was indeed a potted plant, sadly. It's almost fake looking leaves cascaded down over a cheap green plastic pot. I followed Joker with questioning eyes as he brushed past me to the other side of the room. He reached up and hung the gift on a hook in my ceiling.

"Whatcha' think, sir?" He asked proudly. He took a step back and surveyed his work, grinning.

"It's….. Wonderfully ugly." I murmured as I walked up beside him. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse the Englishman reached into his pocket, pulling out a crinkled piece of construction paper with a huge blob of tape on the back. He reached up and stuck it on, leaving it slightly crooked. It read:

_Estaban Pablo Cardinal, the plant._

My eyes widened at the horrendous addition. I shook my head firmly.

"No fucking way, take that down."

Joker shook his head as well, still grinning.

"No returns sir."

With that he turned swiftly on his heels and walked back out of the room, leaving my door wide open.

"Suck a _moron_." I huffed as I reached up in an attempt to take the plant down. My fingers just barley brushed the bottom of the cheap plastic pot, but that was all I could manage.

I'm just now realizing how much taller Joker is than me.

What a fucking tease.

"Joker! COME GET THIS!"

"What was that?" I heard from the end of the hall.

"THAT'S AN ORDER!" I barked.

No response, only the fading echo of footsteps on the wooden floor. I groaned and pinched the bridge of nose in hopes of fighting off a headache.

Where's Clam when I need him?

**Hey guys, sorry I haven't been putting stuff up lately. I've had a serious case of writers block until this situation happened between my mother and I a few days ago. I know its short and not that good, but I wanted to upload something.**


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